On Pregnancy: How did this happen?

So I found out I was pregnant the day DOMA was declared unconstitutional (yay! awesome!). I knew there was a reason I wanted a waffle so badly. Actually, I didn't think I was pregnant at all. We're filming a documentary and I was going to take a pregnancy test for a scene. I was just going down the checklist before I went into my reproductive health appointment to begin testing for IVF: period, no?, take test, negative, report back. It had been quite some time since I'd had a cycle, but I really wasn't concerned. Nothing about the absence felt "pregnant" to me. But then, I had a large loaded caffeinated beverage and was exhausted afterwards. I had some stomach issues. I started to wonder.

I was going to wait to film to take the test, but then I remembered what usually happens when Aaron and I both process something sad/frustrating/negative at the same time: lots of crying and arguing. So, being the woman I am, I decided to take the test the day before so I could spend a little time on my emotions about it before Aaron had any.

Yeah, that didn't work out so well. When the test came back pregnant, I double-checked, pulled up my pants, and ran into the living room. I stood there for a second, holding the plastic wand, just staring at Aaron. He looked at the scene, exclaimed, "ARE YOU PREGNANT?!" and his eyes began to water. All I could do was hand him the test. I couldn't even speak. He immediately asked for more tests, to the tune of about $100 over the next few days. He couldn't believe; neither could I. I managed to get a blood test from the doctor's office a few days later, but at an ultrasound in the ER last week, we learned just how far along I was. We went from 7 weeks to about 9 weeks to over 10 weeks! So now I am in the middle of my 11th week.

I have yet to vomit, but I do have some serious sinus issues I'd trade a good puke for, that's for sure. My body is already changing- it's gone soft. Big roundness in the front and the back. It's all really very strange. I'm really thirsty, fairly hungry, and super tired. Pregnancy insomnia sucks! But I really am not having a bad time at all, and so far am enjoying this.

This doesn't take away the pain of the last few months; hell the last few years. We probably won't be able to do it this way again, since Aaron needs to go back on testosterone and that will eventually sterilize him. But we're not scared; we're just enjoying it.

My next post will about the absolutely ridiculous crap people say to expectant parents. OMG.

Everything Can Change.

We've been through so much. Everything has been more difficult than it should have been. Everything has taken longer and hurt more than what we thought it would. We got to keep each other, yes. But this has not been easy. We haven't felt like winners in a long time.

So it is with great shock and love that I announce our pregnancy. We are overjoyed, and as terrified as expectant new parents could be. We had scheduled IVF for this fall and he had been diligently taking his Clomid, despite the terrible side effects. He was going to bank his sperm so we could try for a kid.

When the sperm analysis came back and we were told it was "almost normal" but the sperm didn't swim in the right direction, I was already pregnant. I was already pregnant when one of our favorite doctors told us we might never conceive outside of a medical office.

I feel like a winner, but not because we conceived at home. Any conception is a win. No, I feel like a winner because we get to try to be parents. We get a chance. I don't care how it came about. I went a long time without knowing I was pregnant (try nearly 8 weeks), have been to the ER once, and have my first official appointment this Friday.  It's already been kind of crazy, but we wouldn't have it any other way.

Meet Glow Worm. I hope to welcome him or her into the world before February!

I Knew.

One of the things I don't talk about too often is how I knew something was wrong the morning I was notified Aaron was injured. I knew I needed to clean the house and get ready for something, but what I didn't know what. Not yet. I think somewhere in my mind I knew something was about to happen. And I think Aaron did, too.

The day before Aaron and I had a long talk, on the phone and internet. We had argued and I had cried, as usual. But then he seemed to really man up and said something to the effect of, "I don't want to make you feel bad. I know this is hard, and we don't talk much, so I want to make better use of our time." So we did. We laughed more then than we ever had. He made some pretty ridiculous jokes, which is about all I can remember. Aaron stayed up late to make me laugh. I awoke the next morning to two emails and another message.

And because of that, I think Aaron knew something, too. He wasn't one to write a lot, especially not three times. Knowing him the way I do now, I think he felt that our arguing, our issues, were probably temporary and decided to focus on the love first, knowing that all the complicated stuff would go away and we would have us, and we wanted to best us.

That morning, as I ate my cereal and read my emails, I compiled a list in my head: start on some schoolwork, clean the house. People were coming over. No, I wasn't having company. But I knew. I had emptied a storage container and wanted to go through it and get it back in the closet. I wanted to clean my house because somehow, I knew it would be full of people.

So I don't know. It takes a lot for me to use the word "miracle" these days; even on Day One. There was the moment I could have found out by email that Aaron had lost his legs, but did not. That was a miracle. A Jesus moment, if you will. And I suppose there have been others, too but they felt more intimate than that. Maybe one day I'll get my religion back in order, but for now I'll be grateful for a God that isn't all cruel. I got to keep him, and build a new life with him.

But back to the topic: I knew something was wrong. Maybe Aaron knew something could happen that day, too. Things had been rough out there- since he isn't going back, he tells me more than he would have a few years ago. A few years ago. He was on his last deployment a few years ago; tomorrow will mark 669 days, or one year and ten months since that day. It's almost funny.

Life is changing in so many ways, and while I'm excited to move on, I don't want to forget, either. I don't want to forget that I knew I could lose him. I don't want to pretend it never happened.

I was eating cereal when life began again. It was harmless. But it was the last ordinary thing I ever did. And I knew in some way. Maybe I'm just lucky like that.